


If first life doesn't work, try again

by WHUMPBBY



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M, Mentions of PTSD, Other, a lot of snuggling and nuzzling tho, cause they're cats!, shiro is lovely, surprisingly there's no filth in this one, they're cats, this is sweeter than I thought it would be, tho everyone is damaged
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2016-09-01
Packaged: 2018-07-28 10:47:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7637161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WHUMPBBY/pseuds/WHUMPBBY
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Keith's life was okay. Not good, but bearable, he was his own tom and could do what he wanted, nothing to hold him back. That is, until he got hit by a car and lost his freedom.<br/>*<br/>Shiro's life was going well, exactly as he planned it - until he was sent on a mission where he lost his arm and his purpose.<br/>Only to find it again in the form of four little bundles of joy. Well, three bundles of joy and Keith.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, this is not what I expected to write today, but there it is. It's cute and there will be some drama, but it will be mostly cute.  
> First chapter is short, but the next ones will have stuff happening;]

The new tom was in the smallish side – young, obviously, and rather compact instead of outright thin. His fur was black and ruffled, and it stuck out in amusingly random directions.

Hunk observed the newest addition to the family wearily from outside of the carrier where the tom was locked for the general safety. He was concerned for the small thing – so visibly underfed and battered, with its ears scuffed at the tips. The bandages stood out sharply against the fur, white and smelling sharply of the medicine good humans used to heal the wounds underneath.

Hunk was no stranger to that smell.

A snide purr made him twitch nervously. “Done staring yet?”

Hunk turned to see Pidge ambling up to him on her short legs, settling down next to him and, against her words, pointing her own green eyes at the occupant of the carrier. “He’s not going to get away,” she stated, ear flicking in a habit they all knew.

“Nah, I’m just concerned,” Hunk answered quietly. “He looks so battered. I hope that Shiro was right and it won’t take much more for him to wake up.”

At that Pidge turned her head, looking at him. “He already did,” she said. “He’s just pretending to sleep, god knows why.”

Hunk flinched, eyes back on the newest cat, a look of hurt crossing his expression. “Aw, really?”

His rouse discovered, the black tom scrunched its nose and opened one eye to look at them. It was a very dark blue in colour and full of hazy hostility. The sleeping medicine was apparently still making him drowsy.

“Oh, wow, someone’s not happy,” Pidge commented in her usual dry fashion. “Not that I can blame him, roughed up as like he is.”

The tom hissed at them, the sound weak and breathy, and tried to shuffle back into the carrier. Unfortunately, he was already plastered to the back wall and additionally tangled into the soft towels lining the floor.

Hank, worried about him injuring himself further, stepped closer to the carrier, releasing a low purr, trying to calm the tom down. Only to be met with bared teeth and lowered ears - an angry warning to stay back. He shrunk, his impressive frame flattening against the floor to seem less threatening.

Pidge, in contrast, didn’t much care to be hissed at. “Yeah, yeah, spit all you want, hot stuff!” She snapped. “Once the medicine wears off you will have a reason to be unhappy!”

Hunk winced. This was not the way to greet a new packmember. “Pidge, don’t be like that, he’s scared and in pain.”

She flicked her solitary ear again, making it known that she isn’t happy, before trotting away. “I don’t think he will be staying with us for very long, not with that attitude.”

“Aw, Pidge, come on!” Hunk limped after her. “Don’t be like that!”

“But then again, Shiro _did_ keep Lance, so the attitude apparently isn’t important.”

“Pidge!”

 

 

****

A WEEK EARLIER

 

He didn’t know what happened.

Well, okay, no, he did. Roughly. He knew what led to his current predicament – to having his side torn open and losing his consciousness on the side of the road right outside of the park, his safe space. Two jumps away from home… just his luck, to get his by a car two jumps from home!

After that, everything was a blur. He thought he’s dead for a while there, he kinda hoped he was. It was a stupid end, sure, but there were worse ways to go for someone like him.

But no, he wasn’t dead. A barrage of sounds and smells assaulted him, he was picked and moved from paws to paws, all of them big and strong, and he was too weak to fight them off. Then he was put on a flat cold steel, there was a blinding light and even more pain, the paws twisting and poking, and something sharp prodding his front leg. And then – _nothing_. The pain went away, his sense of smell and hearing went away, he was floating on a soft cloud, removed from his broken body. Sounds came and went, but they were all distorted into intelligible hums he didn’t have to focus on.

When he finally came to, he realised that the cloud comparison wasn’t mistaken – he was curled up in a warm, soft nest made of fluffy fabric. For the first time in his life he didn’t feel hungry, not thirsty, not even afraid. He was still too light for his body, still unconcerned with the thick layers of something binding him down, with the little device stuck into his front paw, attached to something in the distance he could not see well… He pawed at the device, but his paw was weak and all he’s managed was to get his claw stuck in the sticky thing that held the device down…

He didn’t remember making the sound, but he could hear the distressed meow very well. And, apparently, not only him.

“Hey there, buddy, what’s wrong?” A voice thundered above him and he tried to tense, but couldn’t. All his muscles felt lax and worn. “Wait a moment, I will get that.”

A big paw appeared in front of him – and his brain flared with a distress signal HUMAN!! – but he could only spit weakly in reaction. All he got for his trouble was a pat on the head and the paw went back to… dislodging his claw for him.

Huh?

He stared at the freed appendage, flabbergasted, trying to jumpstart his brain into its normal processes. It was hard in his state. Even harder when the human paw returned to pat his head and the long digits slipped behind his ears and _rubbed_.

Oh. Oh no. This was terrible! He couldn’t… _think_ …

With a weak moan he tried to move his head, but the voice from above rumbled softly and the rubbing intensified.

“Calm down, buddy, you’re in good hands. You will be fine. Shh.”

No one has rubbed his head since… since his mother… and that was so long ago that he was surprised that his body even remembered the sensation at all. He never let anyone touch his ears after that – let no one close enough to be able to, for that matter. Especially, not a human!

Oh, if he only wasn’t so broken, he would scratch the bastard bloody, he would… he would… oh god, he couldn’t think like that! Not when his ears were rubbed just right… and then the back of his head, the tense muscles on his neck… goddamn human magic! How did they know how to…

 

*****

 

“Shh, clam down,” Shiro spoke gently to the cat, tirelessly trying to comb his fingers through the tangles of fur on its neck. The little thing needed a bath, badly, but that had to wait a bit, until the painkillers wore off and he could see for himself that the cat is okay. “There, there, buddy, you will be fine.”

“He is so cute!” A voice squealed over his shoulder – almost giving him a heart attack. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Shiro!”

“That’s okay, Allie,” he wheezed, hand comically clenched on the shirt over his heart. “At least it was quick.”

Allura smiled and rolled her eyes at him. “No so fast,” she quipped, leaning in so their faces were on one level, “Luckily,I know how to preform CPR.”

One warm smooch on the corner of his lips later, Shiro was fully recovered and back to staring at the bundle of black tangled fur and stark white bandages that meowed weakly when he rubbed its ears. “He is rather handsome, isn’t he?”

“Aww, look at his fur. And his little tail! So fluffy!”

Shiro chuckled lightly at the sight. It never ceased to amaze him how a woman able to bench-press a minivan could lose her head so swiftly in the presence of small animals. Especially, that compared to her, all animals were small.

He was the luckiest bastard alive to be dating her, that’s for sure. She loved cats and could throw him over her shoulder like he was a sack of flour; not to mention, she was beautiful and understanding. And loved cats. “He already looks better, don’t you think?”

She looked at him fondly over the rims of her glasses and nodded. “Of course, the operation was a success, after all.” She would know, she’s performed it. “He’s going to have a long recovery ahead of him, but you know how it is, cats can bounce back from the brink of death.”

Yeah, he knew that one.

“He’s unregistered, though,” she mused, rubbing her chin in thought. “A stray, most probably, he has no chip and there was no collar on him. I will call Matt and see if he has a free placeatn the shelter.”

“Mhm,” Shiro hummed in answer, reaching out to stroke the little foundling again.

“Shiro,” Allura said his name, a warning in her voice.

He looked up, expression as innocent as he could make it, “Allie?”

She kept his eyes for almost a full minute before releasing her breath in one long-suffering sigh. “We have dibs on naming him.” The change of subject was easy. “What’s the letter of the week?”

They turned their heads to look at the calendar hanging on one of the cabinets. It was marked with an array of symbols, post-it notes and incomprehensible squiggles their boss liked to call writing.

Shiro thought long and hard before taking a risk. “I think it’s K, but don’t quote me on that.”

“K, eh?” Allura rubbed her chin once more. Shiro low key wanted to kiss her every time she did that. “Kevin?”

“We already did Kevin. Kenneth?”

“Nah, too big for such a tiny thing. It’s like calling a child Grant or something.”

“Right. Maybe Kayle?”

“General Kitterson!”

“Allie, no.”

“Shiro, yes!”

 

******

 

He was drowsy and tired, and things either hurt or were numb enough to hurt in a different way.

But someone was rubbing his head in the exact right way, so it couldn’t be that bad. He was safe and soft, and it was nice.

So, even when a pair of giant paws lifted him out of his nest and held him high over it, he wasn’t scared. Even as a pair of eyes looked at him from very close and the giant human rumbled at him…

“Hey there, Keith. How are you holding up there, buddy?”

Keith…?

Did the human just… the gall! Was he in his right mind, he would show the bastard how he dealt with being handled against his will!

But he wasn’t. He was nice and light, and cosy. And ‘Keith’ was far from the worst things he’s been called so far.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy hell, dudes, this is growing a plot! D:  
> I am distressed!

Lance greeted Shiro at the door as per usual, long legs carrying him almost without touching the floor. The cat swirled around his legs, rubbing the side of its face against his shins and yowling loudly, demanding his usual ear scratches.

“Give me a moment, buddy,” Shiro said, trying to squeeze through the narrow hallway into the kitchenette with both of his hands occupied and a cat swirling like water around his legs.

In the kitchen, he dropped the bag of supplies on the counter next to Lance, and awkwardly set his backpack on the floor. He still hasn’t got the full grip on the prosthetic, but he was getting there. At least Lance didn't seem to mind that his scritches came from it - plastic or not, fingers were fingers, and a few affectionate rubs were enough to have the tom attempt meowing.

Shiro’s heart always melted a little when Lance tried to meow at him. For a stranger, the sound might have been a bit distressing (Matt was so sure that Lance had an asthma or some other debilitating lung disease before they’d figured out that the wheezy sound only came out when he was being petted), but for him the effort was what counted. “Had an eventful day, I take it?” Shiro cooed when the small cool nose touched his chin. “Come with me, I have something to show you.”

The tom followed him into the living room where Shiro finally put the pet carrier down - it fit perfectly into a shadowed corner between the couch and the wall. Lance’s attention instantly transferred from his owner to the carrier and its contents. He pressed his nose to the metal crate door to give it a good sniff before he started to paw at the thing, demanding to be let inside.

With a chuckle, Shiro picked him up. “Shh, don't wake him.” He chided lightly when the cat chattered in protest. “Your new friend is very tired and very cranky, be good.”

Lance, the airhead that he was, switched back to rubbing himself against his owner’s chest until Shiro tucked him safely into the crook of the prosthetic arm. “Hey, where are Pidge and Hunk, by the way?”

As if by magic, his answer was provided for him when a solid weight pushed against his side, almost causing him to stumble in his crouched position. Shiro landed on his bum with a hissed out curse and Lance meowed in protest at being jolted.

Hunk looked pleased with himself. But then again, Hunk always looked pleased with himself. Shiro guessed he would be too, if he was the biggest cat on the premises of their quiet neighbourhood. The tan maine coon pushed its massive body against his side again, purring loudly, and Shiro couldn’t do much, but rub its head with his free hand. “Ok, where’s Pidge?” He asked, looking around. “We need everyone for the introductions.”

The tiniest meow and the sound of paws tapping on the parquet, and here she was, trotting towards them and plopping down in front of the carrier like a proper little lady, all white and patchy red, and adorable. She didn’t much care for petting and Shiro was glad, he only had two hands - well, technically only one, but… eh, whatever.

“So, seeing that we’re all here,” he started seriously, pointing at the carrier and its sleeping occupant. “This is Keith and he will be staying with us for a while. He’s still unwell, so be gentle with him. Okay?”

Lance kept nosing at his ear and Hunk gnawed slowly at his fingers; Pidge took one look at the black cat in the carrier, sniffed, and turned to leave.

Shiro took it as an agreement.

 

………..

 

And hour later, showered, fed and dressed into civilian clothing, Shiro plopped down on the couch and reached for the|TV remote. The day at the Altea pet clinic has been long - an emergency after emergency, and even if some of them were quite enlightening (he never knew that a snake can get lost in their own discarded skin, huh), it was also quite draining. At the end of the day even Allura - usually the pillar of strength and the leading force behind the team - was ready to fall down. She downright pushed him out of the door, promising that they’ll go out for dinner tomorrow ( _“But not today, I am ready to murder a six pack and a steak, and I absolutely don't want you to see me in this state, Shiro!”_ ) when he offered to stay and help the new assistants clean.

Heck, he was little more than a new assistant himself, but it was quite funny how all the fresh-faced interns kept deferring to him. Allura told him it’s because of his serious expression and the aura of fatherly concern that supposedly surrounded him wherever he went. Shiro was sure it was just his graying hair.

He checked up on Keith before showering and a careful look into the carrier assured him that the tom was still asleep. The poor thing was exhausted and probably still in pain as the painkillers were slowly washing out of its system. Shiro hoped that the cat’s cranky attitude was an effect of his injury and the stress involved, and that he will come around soon. That’s why he took him home in the first place - Matt had his hands full with the cats at the shelter already and there was no one spare to give the little stray the attention he needed.

Also, apparently Keith was an asshole to anyone at the clinic who wasn’t him - humans and other animals included.

( _“You’ve bonded already!” Allura didn’t look as happy as her chirpy voice suggested. “How is that fair in any way? You’re here three days a week to mine six and all the cats stick to you like glue!”_

_“Maybe they can smell Coran on you?” Shiro suggested, chuckling over Keith’s head, the black cat resting on his chest limply. “Or three hundred other creatures you’re dealing with on daily basis?”_

_“Or maybe Keith here is just an ungrateful little wretch!” She sighed dramatically. “I hope that Lancelot rubs off on him, this is too cute of a kitten to grow up cold and jaded!”_

_“Yeah, hopefully. I already have Pidge for that.”_ )

But he couldn’t disagree, cats did seem to prefer him for some reason.

The proof number one was just about finished struggling his way onto the couch and into his lap, big and fluffy, and heavy as a sack of rocks. Another was purring quietly into his ear from the backrest of the couch and the third one snuggled its way under his right arm, nosing lightly at the scarred skin where the elbow was supposed to be, but wasn’t.

Shiro couldn’t stop himself - he lifted the damaged limb and lightly booped Lance on the nose with the stump. The cross eyed look was totally worth it, even if the cat scoffed at him in confusion.

The TV rumbled in the background, some sort of a romantic comedy that Shiro had little interest in and had only on for there to be something on. It was calming, nice to sit like that in the dim light, surrounded by the warmth and quiet purrs of the creatures that only had love for him, that never judged his actions and needed him almost as much as he needed them.

 

………..

 

Keith, huh?

Humans were so damn presumptuous! He’s been warned about it, his mother did tell him that if he ever gets caught, he will end up locked up in a box and given a name he didn't chose. Humans were just like that.

_“They will take you and treat you with no respect at all! And the worst part is that they know - they know how to make you like it!”_

And, damn, if it wasn’t truth! He always thought of himself as a strong tom - he was. He was a good hunter, a strong fighter, he never lost a duel yet. He wasn't afraid of dogs and rats, and didn't get sick like some others did. He thought that he’s able to withstand imprisonment and coercion, and…

But it hurt so much. He was in constant pain that kept dragging him down whenever he’s managed to raise above it for even a moment. He couldn’t move and could barely eat and - want it or not - the humans were the only reason he was still alive.

The human with soft voice and the one cold hand was there for him whenever pain and distress were strong enough to make him voice them out loud. And damn, if the human didn’t know how to make it all go away with his magical fingers and soft words. He smelled good, too, in that place that smelled of sharp chemicals and creatures in pain. He smelled like another cat - like home.

All the other humans could go and fuck themselves for all that he cared, but this one… ugh, this one was not the worst… he guessed. Probably.

And he wasn’t without honor, too! He wasn’t too proud to admit when someone helped him, to show them as much gratitude as he could afford to show.

“Hey, Keith, how are you today, buddy? Feeling hungry at all?”

Keith, huh?

Ugh, alright, that he could do. He guessed. It was a small thing, after all.

 _Keith_ it was, then.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so:  
> Hunk is a maine coon - and big for a maine coon, too! His fur is tan and he is a very defiition of a gentle giant.  
> Pidge is a munchkin - white with red patches all around, she has one ear and isn't too hot on the cuddles and pats.  
> Lance is a bengal - nice and tall, and loud, but has problems with meowing (sometimes cats do, I have no idea why) and prefers to 'chatter' instead.  
> Keith is a black, medium-coat, fuzzy stray.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Plot" thickens;]  
> I need to talk with someone about the cat paladinsTAT They are growing on me.

The tom staring at him from behind the cage’s door was getting on Keith’s nerves by just being there. He was tall and slender, with a pair of bright green eyes and the most ridiculously spotted coat Keith has ever seen - none of that, sadly, detracted from the stranger being very pretty. 

But that was probably due to him being well fed and groomed, Keith reasoned with himself, fighting off a spike of embarrassment that tried to rear its head when he thought of his own pitiful state. It’s not like he needed an excuse to look like shit - but that’s what his brain was trying to find. 

_ Get under a car and see how pretty you look afterwards  _ \- he thought bitterly at the tom. Which was ridiculous, because he never really cared about these things and the stranger hasn't even spoke to him yet… his stare was mostly curious and open, nothing like the snide glances Keith had imagined that a pampered housecat would throw at a free one. 

And this one was a pampered housecat, the proof was right there, hanging off his neck on a dark blue stripe - a glistening mark of ownership and lost freedom.  

Maybe it was, Keith reasoned, the fact that he couldn’t even stand up yet, because his side hurt and his left hind leg was numb, swathed in cloth he didn’t know how to remove. He was weakened and in pain, unable to protect himself from harm, still completely reliant on the human to keep him alive. He wasn’t used to being this vulnerable - especially in front of someone so… That made him nervous, and that in turn made him frustrated - and from there it was just a short walk to anger.

The anger that grew the longer the strange cat stared at him from the armrest of the couch. Conceited asshole, taking the high ground as if he was some… some…  _ Ugh _ , it didn't feel good to be trapped at a ground level like that, locked in a small box with no way to escape. Stared at like he was some… some curiosity! Like some  _ pet _ !  

As much as he detested being manhandled, he wished that the big human would come and divert his attention. At least the other two cats were absent. Especially, the enormous one. What a monster, where did it even come from? Keith was almost willing to believe that he dreamed the big cat up in his pain-induced haze, because there was no way…

“Hey!” 

He jumped, pulling at his wounds, and hissed first in pain then in anger at the stupid spotted bastard that jumped down from the couch and landed neatly in front of the cage’s door. 

“Sorry,” the tom said, not looking sorry at all. “I’m Lance. Short of Lancelot.”

Keith looked at him blankly. The tom stared back. And a few uncomfortable minutes passed in this fashion until he couldn’t stand it anymore and asked: “And?” 

The -  _ Lance _ \- twitched, his ears did a strange tick - like they weren't sure if they’re supposed to raise or fall. “What ‘and’?” He asked, incredulous. “And now you tell me your name, newbie. I show you the ropes in case you’ll stay...”

Keith scoffed immediately. “Stay here? As a  _ housepet _ ?” He put an ugly pressure on the word and yep, now the ears were definitively dropping. 

The delicate pink nose wrinkled in anger and the fur in the back of the tom’s neck raised. “What is that supposed to mean!” He asked, incredulous. 

“What do you think it means?”

The cat scoffed, tail lashing and Keith wished he could move his own tail in answer. He settled for hissing a curt ‘back off’ sound and tried to turn his back to the pretty idiot outside. 

“So he’s an asshole after all,” a new voice chimed in, dry like a desert, and Keith flinched, twisting back around. “Oh joy, now we have two of those.”

Lance growled at the molly and Keith opened his mouth to follow suit, but no words escaped him when he finally saw her properly. She was… short. Very short. Her legs were half the size of what they should be and that gave him a pause. That, and the half of a missing ear on her head. 

He stared and she watched him staring, and her expression turned cool, then cold, then outright chilly - until Keith felt like he should be apologising, but for what? She insulted him first! Once more he opened his mouth, but she beat him to the punch.

“Listen up, fluffhead,” she snapped and even Lance stopped his useless yammering. “I really don't give a rat about your stray sensibilities, for all I care you can expire in the gutter you’d crawled out of.” She paused shortly for effect. “But Shiro cares, so you’re going to stay where you are. And while you’re here, you will eat what you’re given. If you piss anywhere in the home to mark it, you will be licking it off. And if you scratch or mouth off to Shiro, so help me, I will have Hunk sit on you.”

She looked so tiny and so adorable, but her voice was low and aggressive, and Keith didn't know how to react. He was always taught to respect females and try to keep to their good side, but this… she sounded vicious and looked like a toy… Did she expect him to answer with affirmative like some whipped mongrel? He had more pride than that! 

Apparently, she didn't, because a moment of silence later the molly turned away from him. “Come, Lance,” she called. “I can hear Shiro walking up the stairs.” 

The pretty idiot -  _ Lance  _ \- jumped to his feet and, throwing one last unpleasant glance at Keith, raced away, jumping over the short molly and her startled scream - only to slip at the landing and fall like a log. What a clown! 

 

…….

 

Three days in, Shiro knew that Keith will be a hard nut to crack. 

The cat was healing pretty well - the stitches on its side were already dissolving and the shaved off fur was nicely coming back. A week from the accident, the broken leg should be on its way to mending. Keith was also growing more lively with every day, meowing weakly to get his attention every time Shiro was in the vicinity of the carrier. 

So far he’s taken Keith out only to check on him and let him use the sandbox, and during these times the cat didn’t seem aggressive or scared. He was curious about his surroundings, even if he couldn’t yet scout them properly with one limb immobile, and that was a good sign. He didn’t try to escape and easily folded himself into the crook of Shiro’s elbow when carried.

He was aloof, though, no nuzzling or licking, or purring out of him. And he didn’t quite seem on board with the idea of other cats around. He wasn’t aggressive towards them - well, at least from what Shiro observed when Pidge and Hunk stopped a few times by the carrier, sniffing and checking up on its occupant. Keith just seemed totally uninterested in their presence. 

Some cats were like that, it wasn’t a problem in the grand scheme of things. Pidge wasn’t generally hot on humans and she was perfectly fine. 

It’s just that… Shiro kinda hoped that Keith would come around. It was harder to find a new home for a cat with poor social skills  - especially one that was also physically... damaged. People wanted cats that were affectionate and cuddly, for that they were willing to overlook their  _ defects  _ or age.

Pidge was the best example. Cute and toy-like, people assumed she would be a perfect little pet - and when that turned out not to be the case, she was handed back. More than once. Shiro didn’t want Keith to go through that painful experience. 

But then, he really didn’t know what to do apart from making sure the tom was comfortable and hoping that his demeanor will change when confronted with the others. Lance was a bit of a spastic, but he was generally harmless and easy going enough for other creatures to fall in line with his affectionate attitude. 

But that’s where the problem started. Lance didn't seem to want to interact with the new cat at all. 

Which was strange, because usually Lance interacted with  _ everything  _ in sight, so why not Keith? Something was fishy. Was he mistaken, taking Keith in? 

Decisive steps had to be taken. 

 

…….

 

“Alright, buddy, don’t make me regret this.”

The door of the cage was open. 

Keith raised his head, confused, staring at the human kneeling in front of it. He hasn’t… reached in to pull him out yet, like he usually did. The human looked at him expectantly for a moment before shrugging.

“In your own time, then,” he said and then stood up and left.

Keith was a bit confused. Wasn’t he going to lock the cage again? What was this new trick?

He shuffled closer to the opening, sniffing carefully, warily, but nothing waited on him there except a container with the hard beans the humans tried to feed him these last two weeks. They smelled surprisingly good for something so dry and pebble-like. There was also a small container of water and seeing it made Keith aware how thirsty he is. Before, the human was putting food and water inside of the cage – was he allowed to have it like that now?

Was he allowed to go out? On his own?  _ Free _ ?

He climbed up and managed to stand on unsteady legs – only three wanted to listen to him, the hind one was still swathed and curled up, he could barely reach the ground with the tip of the foot. Which turned out to be a good thing, because the moment he tried to rest any kind of weight on it, sharp pain shot up his side and almost sent him back down.

So that was it, he understood. The human was leaving the cage open knowing that he won’t escape far.

Still, he could take this chance to scout the premises and figure out a way to get back home. Even if he can’t run or climb now, he will get better soon and by then he will need a way out.

And he will need all the exercise he can get, because clearing the rim of the cage took much more struggle than it had any right to. By the time Keith got to the water, he was panting and his claws were half-drawn from pain. It made for an awkward experience when walking on a soft ground cover that kept catching on their tips. But that he could deal with.

Hm, even a mouthful of the dry crunchy beans tasted better when one wasn’t trapped in a man-made prison.

The  _ house  _ – as the tiny cat called it – was surprisingly quiet. The man was nowhere to be found and others also seemed absent, but Keith was careful. He stumbled forward, nose to the floor, ears up and eyes shooting wary looks in every direction.

The room was smaller than the ones before, cluttered, too. There was a lot of strange objects he assumed to be human-things. It opened into an even smaller space that smelled of food – and Keith had to squash an urge that told him to investigate that, instead. First, he had to cover all possible exists.

The small area ended up in a tight corridor leading to closed doors – the smells were varied there and Keith wrinkled his nose, trying to shuffle between them, but there was simply too many. No exit there, anyway, so he turned around and struggled his way back into the main room. There was one more doorway from there – the door wasn’t closed properly. Keith nosed at the gap, sniffing the air. There were sounds coming from here. Sound like… rain? It smelled of water, but… inside? Rain inside?

By this point he was so worn out that he had to sit down on his haunches – or at least tried to perch on his good leg as gracefully as possible, stretching the bad one to the side to avoid putting pressure on it. The barrier was big and looked heavy, he wasn’t sure that he will be able to push it out of the way. But if there was rain – it was a way outside, wasn’t it?

But what if he got stuck halfway through?

Ah, damnit, he won’t know until he tries! The human will probably come at some point and pull him out, right? Humiliating probability, but it seemed worth the risk. As long as the pretty fool or the vicious tiny one weren’t there to see him fail…  

Resolve steeled, Keith climbed to his feet once more, rested his forehead against the door and pushed.

It didn’t move.

Alright, then, that only meant he had to try harder.

Another try, he put more strength into the motion and the door twitched slightly. There was a chance, then!

If he helped himself with his paws or put all his weight against it, that might have been enough for the crack to widen and for him to slip through. But for that he would have to climb on his hind legs, and, well…

The idea went as well as he suspected – the left leg was useless and the right one couldn’t keep him stable. He did his best and pushed as hard as he could, but in the end the paw went from under him and he crumbled to the ground, angry and in considerably more pain than previously.

Oh, this was hopeless! His stupid leg! He twisted his torso, spitting, ready to gnaw at the bindings until they fall off, because it was better to be in pain than to be half-immobile like that! He could deal with pain as long as he had the range of movement back!

It took decidedly more effort than he expected, the fabric was sheer, but layered and tight, and whenever he pulled, it tightened somewhere else. By the time he got it halfway off, he was exhausted and not even sure why he’s doing this in the first place. His ears were dropping and even his jaws hurt. It was so stupid, why would humans put this on him, his leg was perfectly fine with being licked well. His leg…

His…

The last layer of the fabric finally slipped off his limb and Keith froze – for the first couple of breaths he wasn’t even sure what he’s looking at. The sight was so  _ impossible  _ that his brain refused to connect the dots, to believe in what he’s seeing. It was some sort of an illusion. He was just tired. It was… It was… His leg looked terrible, swollen and shaved and covered in healing cuts and…

His foot wasn’t there.

His foot was  _ gone _ .

_ Gone. _

“Wha… what…”

He reared back with a sound of distress escaping his tightening throat, but it was impossible to back away from one’s own body and the stump followed him, stark and ugly,  _ and there _ . It shouldn’t be there! Where was his foot!?

Humans… humans took it! That was the only explanation, the only thing that made sense. Humans took it away!

Why?! Why would they do that!

“Hey… hey, what’s going on?”

He didn’t even have the presence of mind to respond to the concerned voice that cut into his terrified screaming, into his frantic attempts to escape the sight of his mangled limb.

“Hey, calm down. Stop screaming, stop…”

How could he stop! He was… humans stole a part of his body  _ how was he supposed to calm down?! _

“Oh man, that’s now how… oh no, wait, stop moving for a moment, you’re going to hurt yourself even more!”  

Keith trashed when he felt an immense weight crushing him to the ground, he fought it briefly, before teeth closed on the skin on back of his neck and  _ pulled _ . And his body went limp against his will, nerves switching off and breathing evening out against his best attempts to keep screaming. He was lifted clear off the ground and didn’t even have enough mobility left to twist his head and look who it was – but the smell told him. It was the big cat? Why? No, he wasn’t… he wasn’t a kitten anymore, how dare he…! But the only thing that escaped him was a pitiful whine as he was carried across the room, a rumbling purr constant at his back, further triggering the reactions he tried to fight, but… his head was full of panic, the bitter taste pushing at the back of his throat, cold shivers running up and down his spine.

It couldn’t… it couldn’t be true. It couldn’t…!

By the time he was deposited in an unknown nest Keith realised that he’s crying - thin, reedy meows escaping him with every breath. The big cat let him down into the middle of the nest and then, with gentleness and care surprising for his size, curled around him, paws and tail holding tightly to his shivering form. The deep purr didn’t cease even for a moment and no matter how much Keith wanted to fight and escape, his body was still lazy and limp form the recent carry, and the soft warmth of the great fluffy coat was soothing in its own way.

“There, there,” the tom rumbled, nosing at Keith’s head. “It’s okay, don’t cry.”

“My leg…” Keith gasped, trying to escape and lean into the nuzzle at the same time. He was such a mess, he would never allow anyone… but it was… it was a nightmare! “My leg… they took it… they took it away!”

“No, no, it’s not like that,” the tom purred to him, calm and big and warm. “They probably had to. Our humans are good, little buddy, they wouldn’t hurt you like that.”

“It’s gone!” He wanted to scream, but his nose was buried under the tom’s neck and his ear was licked softly, and his voice just couldn’t raise. “…what am I going… to do now…” He hiccupped weakly instead. “I can’t… I can’t…”

He couldn’t go back to the park like that. He was crippled. He couldn’t…

“Hey, don’t worry, Shiro will take care of you. Shh, Shh, come on, calm down, you’ll be fine, you’ll be alright…”

No, he won’t be. _He was_ _crippled_ – free cats didn’t survive crippled! He wasn’t going to be okay!

 

…….

 

Lance ambled into the bedroom on light feet, pulled in by the curious sounds coming from Hunk’s basket. He had a great time outside, watching their human train on the fresh air. Moreover, Shay was out today with her own human and Hunk needed to know that!  

But when he neared the basket his ears rose, recognising the underlying distress of the quiet meows he was hearing.    

“Hey, Hunk?” He slowed down, concerned. “Buddy, is everything… Oh.” He stopped when the full picture came into view. Hunk was so big and fluffy, and curled so tightly that it was almost easy to miss the small black piece of fluff he was holding between his paws.

The great head lifted slightly and Hunk met his gaze, a warning clear in his eyes.

Stay back, we have a crisis here. I’m on it.

“Oh,” Lance echoed dumbly, rooted to a spot.

“Yeah,” Hunk whispered back, mid-purr.  

He should go, right? It was no place for him – emotional disasters of any kind weren’t his forte. Especially, this sort of turmoil – so, the snarky fluffball finally got a peek under the wraps, eh? From the looks of it, he didn’t like what he saw.

The –  _ Keith  _ – was a rude ass, sure, but even at his worst Lance wasn’t mean enough to make light of something like that. And Hunk got it, he always did. Hunk was the best to deal with this.

With a decisive nod, Lance backed away gently and disappeared behind the bedroom’s door.

He would have to tell Shay that Hunk was indisposed.

 

…….

 

Shiro loved his post-workout showers. It was a good way to get his blood going and kept him sharp. Towelling off one-handed was still a bit of a struggle, but he was getting there. Shaving was a bit harder still – he was never a fan of electric shavers, preferring the old school razors. They just gave a closer shave and he liked to have his face smooth, any sort of growth annoyed and distracted him - it didn’t used to be that way, in the past he often planned to grow a beard… It was just one more unwanted souvenir that came back with him from the tour.

At least Allie was willing to maintain his hairdo for him. The undercut wasn’t easy to accomplish with a pair of scissors, but he hasn’t yet got to the point of having a shaver whining at the back of his head. It was a thing he was working on, but like all of his souvenirs, it was hard to get rid of.

If only ebay auctioned off anxiety disorders caused by the most mundane, stupid things… He would be the top seller in a month’s time.

But that was a thing Shiro didn’t allow himself to think about, so he threw it into the laundry basket with the wet towels – previously checking for Pidge, because that’s where she liked to lounge from time to time – and left the bathroom. Two steps carried him to the closet, because his flat was relatively tiny.

He reached in for a fresh pair of sweats and stilled.

Hunk’s basket, tucked into the corner of the small walk-in, was making some concerning noises.

Shiro kneeled and leaned over, worried – until his eyes adjusted and he could discern the tuft of dark fur in the sea of tan hair. A small, twitching ear that Hunk kept nuzzling affectionately; an ear that could belong only to one other cat.

“Oh,” he muttered, backing quietly away.

Huh, alright. It would seem that his worry was over the top. He should have had more faith in Hunk. If Keith was already this clingy, there was hope for him yet.  

  
  
  
  
  
  



	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And a bit more angst - but a cute angst:)  
> Have fun!

“There,” the big tom muttered over his head. “Do you feel better now?”

Keith shivered in answer and stayed quiet. His breathing calmed down considerably and he wasn’t making these pathetic sounds anymore. He felt warm and cared for, and it was enough to calm his panic, even if the provider of said care and warmth was a stranger.

He felt pathetic and ashamed, instead. To fall apart like that in front of someone to the point where he had to be carried by the scruff of his neck and licked calm like a little kitten! His dignity hurt almost as much as his body did. The measured purrs of the big cat helped him with the pain, but not enough - not now that he knew what was under the wraps. The horrifying truth was revealed to him and he didn’t know what to do.

“Hey, Keith? Are you alright?”

He was the exact opposite of alright! He was missing a leg!

“I… don't know what to do,” he meowed miserably, twisting himself into a tight little ball under the big cat’s paw. “What do I do… now?”

The big tom answered with astounding calm and certainly, “You heal. You have to rest and eat well, and you will heal.”

Keith wanted to laugh. “It won’t make my… it won’t grow back! I may as well just roll over now… hey!”

The tom huffed at him and pushed him with his head, until Keith was lying on his back, smothered with the long fur, confused. He flinched, however, when a cool nose started to sniff around his wounds and the… where the foot was supposed to be. “Hey… hey! Stop…!”

It didn’t hurt, the big cat was gentle, but Keith didn’t want to see his mauled leg! He didn’t want to think about the stump! He wanted to forget about it!

“Hm, it’s not that bad,” the cat surmised.

“Not that…?!”

“It’s healing nicely and there’s no sign of infection. Hm, maybe you should lick it now that it’s out in the open, but otherwise...”

“It’s missing!” Keith intended to snap, but the words ended up in a wail. “They took it!” That was something he couldn't let go! Humans were monsters after all, cruel and deceptive, and awful!

“No, don’t be like that, little buddy.” The big tom purred louder to calm down Keith’s breathing. “Humans at the hospital are good, they wouldn’t do it if they didn't have to. Do you remember what happened before you got there? Why were you wounded?”

Keith took a long shivery breath and tried with all his might to make his ears stand up straight, but they didn’t want to cooperate. “I was hit… by a car,” he swallowed. “It was… I don't remember. It hit me and it hurt… it hurt really bad… And then I was there at the ho-stipal.”

“Hospital,” the tom corrected.

Keith nodded. “There. With humans. And then the big one brought me here…”  

“Shiro,” the tom corrected again. He saw Keith’s questioning gaze and explained. “Shiro is our human, he takes care of us.”

“An _Owner_!” Keith growled out, animosity clear. For that, as if in punishment, he was licked across the nose. “Hey!”

“What is it with you wild toms and this Owner crap?” The tom didn't sound angry at him, just curious and vaguely disappointed. “It’s not like we're being held here against our wills, you know? We can always leave.”

“Then why won’t you?”

It was a genuine question. He was curious, why would a big tom like that stay with a human?

“Because Shiro is good to us.” The tom answered calmly. “And none of us is really suited to wild life anymore.”   

Keith was about to protest - the tom was certainly big and strong enough to survive on his own! No stray would dare to walk up to him, he could claim any territory he wanted! What about the pretty fool? He looked perfectly fine, if pampered to death! And the tiny… well, okay, the tiny one could have problems - she was simply too small, her legs weren’t good for hunting and climbing, and fighting with rats…

“Well, if you feel better, we can go back and have something to eat,” the big tom decided in the end, slowly uncurling his massive body from the protective circle he formed around Keith. “Do you want me to carry you back?”

No, no no no, that was humiliating enough the first time it happened! He was perfectly fine to walk on his own!

“Are you sure?” The tom watched him nervously as Keith attempted to find his balance on three legs and crawl out of the basket that, now that he actually paid attention, turned out to be much bigger than he expected. And much softer. And his side hurt a lot the moment he rose to his feet. “Don’t feel ashamed to ask for help when you need it. We all need it sometimes.”

“I’m fine.” Keith tried not to snap. The tom was good for him so far, he didn't deserve to be snapped at. “I just need…”

“Oh,” a thunderous voice came from above. “You’re done with him, Hunk?”

A giant hand came and lifted Keith from the basket like he was nothing, but a piece of fluff. He tried to fight, to twist away, but to no avail, it held him by the scruff and his body switched off again.

“Don’t worry!” The big tom called to him from the floor. “Just stay calm and it will be okay!”

Keith couldn't answer, he was pulled into an awkward, one armed hold. He pushed his claws into the loose, thick fabric that almost surrounded him now, trying to hurt the human, but not very much. He was still numb and there was a big face on front of him, a pair of dark eyes that looked at him with strange softness.

 

* * *

 

“Hey, little buddy, how are you faring?” Shiro settled down on the couch, holding the kitten - well, Keith was almost Lance’s age, but so much smaller. He didn’t put his prosthetic back on after the shower - never did - so instead, he made a space for the creature arranging his hoodie into a sort of a cradle between his chest and the remaining half of his right arm. The cat fit in perfectly.

Keith snuggled into the fabric with a thin meow, claws biting into it, but not reaching flesh. The tom didn't look aloof anymore - he looked despondent. Unhappy. He nosed at his wounded limb sadly, ears flopping and Shiro’s heart broke a bit watching him like that. He had no idea how the poor thing has managed to get the bandages off - although he shouldn’t be surprised, between Lance and Pidge he was well aware how ingenious cats could be - but the gentle inspection of the stump and the stitches had shown him that it was more or less the time for it. It was better for Keith to try and learn his new body as soon as possible, mobility was important to cats, it felt cruel when Shiro was forced to keep him to the carrier.

Watching him now, so confused and miserable, wasn’t much better, but at least now they could only build up.

“There, there, Keith, it’s going to be alright. You will be running around with Lance in no time,” Shiro murmured to the small creature, slowly scratching behind the lowered ears. “You will be fine.”

\---

The big human kept speaking to him, making these noises that weren’t violent or aggressive, just calm and soothing. He also scratched his ears and Keith was, for once, too weak and drained to resent it.

“Why would you do that?” He whimpered instead, curling up against the human’s chest. “Why? Why would you take it away?”

Shiro listened to the quiet mewls, eyes growing teary, happy that Allura wasn’t there to see him fall apart like that. He still tried to project _some_ sense of masculinity, after all. But it was hard to keep from sniffling when the tiny thing against his chest needed him to protect it. God, he forgot how it felt already. Pidge was never cuddly and Lance was as mobile as they came, and Hunk seemed to want to take care of him more than wanting Shiro to do it…

He forgot how it is to hold a tiny wounded life in his hands, unable to make it all right with a snap of his fingers.

“Shh, Keith, it’s okay,” he could only whisper with his throat tightening slowly. “I’m sorry, buddy, I wish we didn't have to do this, that we could save you whole. You will heal, you know, you will be fine. I’m sorry…”

He didn't know what he’s apologising for exactly. When Keith got to the centre the foot was already crushed beyond saving - but still, the feeling that he might have done _something_ to make it better persisted.

He wondered if that was what Captain Holt felt back then. If that was the reason he’d spent so much time by Shiro’s bedside, why he apologised so many times for saving his life. For dragging him from under the smouldering car, under heavy gunfire, away to safety - for doing all he could to save the young man while risking his own life.

He didn’t save the whole of him, though, and maybe it was that thought that kept clawing at him all this time?

Shiro wasn’t sure, but he started to understand the sentiment just a little bit.

\---

Keith could hear the big heart under his ear beat slowly, so loud and calm, and slow. The human was so warm. Against his own good sense, he felt comforted by the low rumbles and gentle petting.

Was that it? The reason that the others wanted to stay here? To have this?

No one took care of him since he was a kitten, not like that. It felt… nice. It didn't feel awful or constricting.

It felt nice.

 

* * *

 

 

“Aw, isn't that cute?” Lance cooed from his place on the top of the fridge.

Hunk, crouched on the floor next to it, scolded, “Lance.”

Lance lifted one ear up, “What?”

They watched in silence as their human cradled and soothed the new cat on the couch, both unwilling to go there and get in the way. After a while, though, Lance got down from his grooming spot, gracefully landed next to Hunk and stretched his back with a pleased purr.

“Whatever, I’m going outside.”

“Huh?” Hunk looked at him, surprised, then at the window. “But it’s dark.”

“So what?” Lance’s tail lashed. “There are crickets outside, I can hunt a bit before bedtime.”

“But today is a movie night,” Hunk reminded. “Shiro will need us with him.”

“No, he will be fine, he’s busy. I want to go outside.”

He tried to make his voice sound nice and unaffected, as he turned to go - but after two steps the illusion broke when he was grabbed by the scruff and pulled back. He squeaked in distress, before his muscles started to soften. “What… Hunk, no, come on, don’t do this to me!”

Hunk, bless his soul, ignored his protests. Lance was too big to be carried, his legs dragged across the carpet, but the big tom didn't mind. He pulled and tugged until they were both crouched in front of the sofa.

“You know I hate to be carried!” Lance snapped as soon as he regained feeling in his limbs. Damn, his fur was all tousled now, and just after he groomed it too!  

Hunk had the _audacity_ to lick his head! “You love being carried,” he purred. “Now get up there.”

“I dunwanna. I want to hunt.”

“Lance…”

“Hunk.”

“Hey!” A new voice joined the argument. Pidge leaned over the rim of the couch and looked at them with a displeased wrinkle on her cute little nose. “Get up here, you two! The movie is about to start.”

Hunk shrugged, “You heard the lady.”

Lance shrunk back on his haunches, unable to argue with both of them, but still willing to try and wiggle out of it. “Hunk, I am really not,“ he swallowed nervously, ears falling to half-mast. “I am not good with the feelings… stuff. You know I’m not good with that.”  
  
“That,” Hunk repeated flatly.   
  
Lance bristled. “Yeah, that! He’s sad! I'm not good with them being sad!”   
  
Understanding finally alighted the tom’s eyes and his look softened. Lance had an uncomfortable feeling that he was looking a bit pathetic, that his feelings were peeking through the indifferent mask he tried to keep on. Or maybe it was just Hunk and his ability to read Lance like an open book. To read anyone, really. Hunk was the best – except when he tried to forcefully help Lance deal with his problems. Lance was perfectly able to deal with his problems on his own, thank you very much, he was doing great.   
  
And now he just needed – some time alone and away from Shiro.   
  
He loved Shiro with the love unending, but it was hard for him to stay close to the human when he was this – this.   
  
He hoped that Hunk could at least understand that.   
  
Thankfully, his hopes have not been in vain.   
  
“Alright,” the tom agreed. “But just this time. And don’t stay out too long or I will come and get you.”   
  
The threat was completely unnecessary and a bit laughable, Lance was faster than Hunk on any day of the week. But the sentiment counted and Lance appreciated it.   
  
“Thanks,” he purred and gave his friend a quick nuzzle, before turning around and dashing to the back door. “See ya!”   
  
The TV was already on behind him and he heard Pidge’s annoyed shout, but the backyard was already greeting him with the smell of wet grass and the sound of  suburban nightlife. He had a good feeling about tonight.

Shiro and the newbie were left in capable paws and his hunt will be grand - he just knew it!

 

* * *

 

He came back inside long after the movie was done and the TV was off, the house calm and silent. Lance slipped through the cat door, tired, but happy, fur damp and nose reddened. He padded to the kitchen for a sip of water. While there he pulled the hand towel from the hook next to the cooker and rolled on it a couple times so his fur would dry quicker.

The bedroom door was cracked open and Lance was about to cross it - he could hear the deep breaths of the human and tiny soft purrs that Pidge released when asleep. Lance never told her she did that, he waited with embarrassing the molly until the right occasion. One where he was high enough that she wouldn't be able to reach him.

He was about to walk into the bedroom, when his ears caught another sound coming from behind the couch.

Huh, intrigued, Lance investigated.

“Oh, it’s just you.”

The black tom stirred hi temporary nest in the carrier, he twisted around, lifting his head from the comfortable rest on the folded front paws, blinking slowly. He looked rather adorable, Lance decided, with the fur sticking out in every direction and his eyes still a bit blurry from sleep. What the heck, the newbie was cute!

“What do you want?” His voice, however, didn't match the looks at all! Low and short, it grated on Lance nerves something terrible.

“Nothing.” And yet he still attempted to be civil. The tom was in a lot of pain and the shock of waking up one foot short was unimaginable. Lance was willing to give the new cat a benefit of the doubt - Hunk was quite happy with him, maybe there was something to it. “I just wanted to check… you know… if you’re okay?” Ah, usually he was better with words, it was just that the green eyes looked at him with that piercing scrutiny and his tongue tangled on itself. “I mean, you seem better now… so, yeah, maybe we can go over it again? I can show you how things work here, and you can…”

“Not interested.”

Lance stood there with his mouth open, staring at the black tom who curled back into a tight ball, back to him, ostentatiously ignoring his presence.

“What?” It didn’t make sense! How… why!

“Spare your breath,” the black bundle rumbled sharply. “I’m not staying here any longer than I have to. I’m not a _pet_.”

Again, that ugly pressure put on the last word, as if they - Lance and Hunk and Pidge - were somehow worse than the little savage. And that after being cuddled by Hunk and Shiro!

Oh, that was just…!

“Suit yourself, then!” Lance snapped, turning away. He searched for some good scathing comeback, but nothing came to mind, he was too angry. In the end he settled on the good old,  “Asshole!”

Shiro was deeply asleep when Lance entered the bedroom and jumped on the bed. Hunk was asleep too, plastered against the human’s back, and Pidge was curled up in her own basket by the window.

Lance climbed into his spot near Shiro’s face. Okay, so maybe he kneaded the pillow a bit harder than usually, but there was no one to see it and tell him off. As soon, however, as he fitter himself into the soft fluff, he focused all his attention on the little wrinkle between Shiro’s eyebrows that he didn’t like at all. He sniffed at it gently, careful not to wake the man, a low purr starting deep in his throat.

He kept purring until the small wrinkle disappeared, the skin evening out, signaling the time he could finally close his eyes.

His special job done, he could sleep.

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
